


So Let Me Get This Straight

by NorthernFern



Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (2015)
Genre: Going to a club is good for their mental health, M/M, Undercover is more fun than you think, i think...
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-12
Updated: 2016-02-12
Packaged: 2018-05-19 22:30:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5982865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NorthernFern/pseuds/NorthernFern
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>U.N.C.L.E. team is going undercover. And since they're so good at it they can as well show others how it is done.</p>
            </blockquote>





	So Let Me Get This Straight

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a friend, whose lovely name starts with "I", since she really wished for a "my boyfriend, his boyfriend" situation to happen ;)

“So let me get this straight…”

“Funny you say that-“

“Keep quiet, Cowboy!”

“But I believe you wanted-“

“Quiet!”

Beside him Gaby tries and miserably fails to keep in check her rich laughter. At one point she even chokes while gasping for air and rubbing her eyes full of tears. Both of them look at her for a minute or so, Kuryakin with an annoyed scowl on his face and Solo with a dose of amusement, clearly enjoying himself much more than he should. Illya, visibly tired because of the whole situation, tries again:

“So we are going undercover,” he musters, accented voice full of barely restrained emotions. “And we are going to act as a “threesome”?”

Solo, again focused fully on Red Peril, makes dismissive gesture, as if what he is about to say is one of the most obvious things on planet Earth.

“Well our target is vastly interested in those kind of activities so to infiltrate his club we need to blend in.” Giggles from a couch suddenly gain on power. “We need to show up, make some friends, and get close to take the target off the picture.”

Kuryakin clenches his fists and teeth. He has a curt retort at the tip of his tongue, when a clock in the room chimes and if they don’t start preparing now they’d be late. His tormented pride must wait.

~.~

Gaby walks in first. After all, she is the one, who has received an invitation. The dress she has on herself hugs her in all of right places and paired with her swift steps, screams confidence and wealth. She is hard to miss but that’s exactly what they want to avoid.

She barely acknowledges club's staff and has little regard for most of the club's clients. Unsurprisingly, only an hour into this evening she and her two man escort, are given an invitation to the boss’ private suit. She takes the offer, naturally, but prior to that gives and obligatory show of _how glad they should be she allows that_.

“This is my _boyfriend_ , Illya,” she introduces him, then turns to Solo, too smug smile creeps on her lips. “And this is my _boyfriends’ boyfriend_ , Napoleon.” Names stay the same; no need for complications in a field. Their target chuckles, now clearly interested.

“Interesting names,” he comments almost good naturally. Gaby shrugs curtly, smile on her lips.

“To add some spice, we made our circle more… international.” The man bursts out laughing content with an answer. “Must be fun, to keep them around.” He smiles – all teeth and predator’s glint in the eye, his mind no doubt already writing possible scenarios for this arrangement. Kuryakin fights with all his might not to compromise their mission by throwing the target trough that big aquarium on the left.

When it comes to Solo, his only hope is that Red Peril won’t overreact and throw someone through that enormously large aquarium on their left.

And Gaby? Gaby has the evening of her life and she is not going to waste even a minute out of it. She quickly changes a topic for the one involving actual action and sees the boss particularly bounce while proposing some of his ideas for a make out session. Illya groans burring his face in his hands and somehow, _somehow!_ , doesn’t start a fight. It may be partly due to Solo’s hand that mysteriously appeared on the small on his back. He hasn’t noticed it before. It’s kind of… soothing? The atmosphere of this place must be messing up with his brain. Or the fact that, after all, they are undercover. Doesn’t matter – he’ll just kill Cowboy later, no big deal – he knows where he sleeps.

He’s brought back to the conversation by Gaby’s pearly laughter, round tones vibrating in the room.

“No, no,” she smirks lazily. “It usually starts with me watching them, while they’re making out.”

Oh, for the sake of-

Solo is there before Kuryakin can fully process what Gaby’s said. One hand on his hip one on his neck. Illya briefly stiffens, long hours of preparation for this task still not enough to-

Lips on his lips. Warm and _moving_. And, oh no, he is not about to let Cowboy win this. No. He’s about to prove he came here fully prepared and ready to act that _subtle thing_.

So he’s responding accordingly – lips moving and hands roaming about greedily grabbing what they can. He thinks he can hear Gaby’s amused: “Wow, today they’re really at it. It must be the audience.” Yes, they can perform stupendously; he’s a Russian spy – he can do anything. He just has to remain in control-

Solo’s hand does _something_ and they’re suddenly on the plushy carpet half wrestling, half trying to wriggle themselves out of their suits. Something’s kinda wrong, he feels, but, at the same time, something’s kinda _right_. Like that sight of Cowboy without his shirt, even though he’d seen him like that before, while on their Hawaiian mission with lot of beaches in it. Or that his pants grew kind of tight in all of the right places. Or that that _fucking hand_ playing with his-

Door bursts with a loud bang and squad of commandoes waltz into the room shouting orders. Illya and Napoleon cough on dust, at the same time fumbling over one another in an attempt to find their guns. Waverly who marches in looks at them, half naked and flushed, his brow rising slightly but says nothing. He regards the scene before him and with that semi-sarcastic tone of his announces: “I’ll take it from here, thank you, team.”

They gather their things and exit the club. Cool air of the night hitting them with a full power of sensibility, which results in slightly awkward silence. They stay like it for a few minutes after which Solo sighs loudly and starts: “Well, that was…”

“Kinda hot?” Gaby tries, a corner of her mouth twitching. Boys look at her like she’s mad but she just shrugs, not really caring. “You should do it more often, just sayin’”

Solo sighs again, while Illya barks: “I’m still gonna kill you, Cowboy.” And _somehow_ it’s more of an invitation than actual threat.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos are new water on AO3 ;)


End file.
